Love Conquers All

It was time to get another dog. In fact, it was critical to get another dog. We hadn’t had a dog for 20 years. We were just too captured in the business world to find one. My spouse had Dementia and I knew it was important to have a dog for comfort and for getting acquainted before the disease took over.

It was after Christmas. This was no time to find a dog. I believed they were all taken.

Luckily, I was able to find all sorts of dogs available on the Internet. There were many that appeared to be exactly what I was searching for, whether in a shelter or in a home with a family looking to re-home their dog for various reasons.

One family was having a baby and afraid their dog would harm it. Really?

Another family had too many dogs and needed to adopt one out.

Messages on the Internet: what kind of dog are you looking for? I have several.

Find a picture of the dog you want and send me money. I will ship the dog to you.

There was one that looked promising in a neighboring town. I texted and emailed and made contact. The instructions were to send money for the dog they had. I wanted to see the dog before I sent any money. They said that could be arranged, but I should send the money to hold the dog or it will be gone.

I just happened to have a friend who lived in that town who was recruited to see the dog. Several (at least 4) contacts later, there was still no meeting to see the dog. But an address was sluiced out and I was told to meet them there. It turned out to be a decrepit apartment building in a part of town no one really wanted to visit. There was no dog waiting there.

Finally, a reputable breeder was located in another state. She had a champion dog in her history. She had a dog I wanted to see. No problem, except she had a dog about to have a litter. No one was allowed near her dogs until after the birth. She permitted no chance of disease to be brought near her dogs. That was understandable and appreciated.

It took a month before those puppies were born and it was deemed OK for the kennel to be visited. It was a two-day trip. 

We were on the road; just needed to find the kennel.

I finally found the kennel just a street away. 

There would be a dog in our house to be loved and cherished and love us in return.

The kennel was a house.

Inside, 20 or more miniature dogs were running around, but none were toy-sized.

There were two puppies walled off, which would be toy-sized when they were grown. One was a female.

Under a chair was another toy-sized dog. She would run out occasionally and discipline one of the two puppies, then run back under her chair.

The available dogs were introduced.

The little puppy was not very interested. It wanted to get back and play.

The other dog, nearly an adult by that time, was so happy to be hugged. When she was put down, she jumped and jumped at our legs. It seemed like she was saying, “Take me, take me, take me!”

Of course we did. She was a rescue dog.

She hadn’t been trained where and when to potty. She had a lot of inherited disorders, including ingrown eyelashes, extraneous teeth and tear ducts that were not fully developed.

But she was our dog. Wrong. She ended up being my spouse’s dog. They bonded. Perfect.

One day, when the dog was sleeping, I accidentally touched her rear. She came up in a flash and snapped at me. What is going on?

This needed to be checked out. I did. It happened again. Had the other dogs in the free run kennel abused her? Tried to mount her? Most likely, or maybe she just didn’t like being touched there. She couldn't tell me.

It would explain a lot of her behaviors. Crossing a room was a dash from under one chair to a table and under another chair, wanting to be active and eat at night, wanting to potty at night.

She was safe with us. She was rescued. She was loved.

Then my spouse died.

I was so devastated. I did my job with the dog. I fed her, went to the vet and groomer. I didn’t notice she was grieving also, that she had lost too much weight for a little dog.

How long do dogs grieve? I’ve heard of some sitting on their master's grave until they themselves die.

As my period of numbness passed, I was able to see, there was a dog. Waiting. This numbness is so real, so indescribable, it is like a big piece of cellophane has been placed over the world. You can see out there, but nothing gets through. It all belongs to who and whatever is out there. The dog was out there.

I was ignoring her and treating her like an object. I was not hitting her like other abusers, but nonetheless, I was emotionally neglecting her.

Oh no!

I set out to establish rapport. Dogs want to give love. Dogs are the only species that wholeheartedly loves without expecting anything in return. She deserved love from me.

I took her in the car. She liked that.

We went on walks, which she loves. She gets so excited, I can barely get the harness on her.

I try to “hear” her now. She looks at me and expects me to know what she is saying. I only know “Want to go out?” “Want a treat?” “Doggy dinner time.” “Jump in bed.” “Good girl.”

This is our second Christmas alone. Together.

We may be bonding.

She comes and sits on my lap or beside me. She knows I wouldn’t intentionally hurt her. She knows that we both were grieving.

She licks my face. She is my gift this year.

Contemplation: What are the long-term effects of abuse on our pets?

Let me know how you are doing. I care.

Sincerely,

Lynn Brooke

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Photo Credit: © 2023 Rachel Gareau